A Piece of You
by Isannah
Summary: When her husband is killed overseas during World War II, Bella finds herself drowning in a dream that was never hers. Can a promise on the battlefield help her let go of that dream and follow her own? Only time will tell. BxE, AH
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story that has been brewing in my head for the last few months. Now that summer is here I finally have the time to do something about it. I hope you enjoy.**

**AN: I do not own Twilight, but I really wish I did.**

**A Piece of You**

**Prologue**

_**November 1946**_

**EPOV**

"Edward, are you going over to the library now?" Jasper asked we both packed up after a particularly grueling anatomy class. I rubbed my face and looked at my roommate as he continued to organize his books. He had been the first person I met when I arrived in Chicago well over a year ago. We were standing in a never-ending registration line and struck up a conversation. Turns out he was here on the GI Bill too. We had a lot in common.

"I'm going to have to. All that new material? If I don't study it right away, it just won't stick." I shrugged as I thought about the daunting reality of it.

"I hear you, friend. I was thinking of getting something to eat and then heading over. What do you think? You in?" I was just about to answer when I was cut off with a resounding slap on my shoulder.

"You in what? Love with your hand, Eddo?" I cringed at Emmett's crassness and the heaviness of his mammoth hand. He was a good friend, really, but sometimes the topics he brought up were things I didn't want to discuss with anyone and he was certainly no exception. And it wasn't just because he was way to close to the truth for my comfort. It was a private matter between myself and I and not one I wanted the whole Northwestern campus to be privy to.

"Seriously, Emmett? Can you be any more inappropriate?" I glanced around to see that most people had already left and those who hadn't were used to Emmett's colorful comments. "And don't call me Eddo. It's not my name."

"Whatever you say, Eddie." Like that was any different. "Anyway, I thought I heard you say you were going to get something to eat and then head to the library. Mind if I come? Banner's lecture was more than my brain could process and just listening to the two of you review the material always helps me understand it better." He looked at us in earnest and I couldn't help but feel for him. Emmett wanted to be a doctor just as much as Jasper and I did, but it seemed he had to work twice as hard at it. Nothing came easy, but his determination and dedication to learning the material made me admire him. He was a good man and I valued him as a friend, even if he wasn't the most couth person in the world.

We made our way out of the lecture hall and into the crisp fall air. November in Chicago could be brutal, but this one hadn't been too bad so far. As we descended the steps in front of the building, we debated on where to go to eat. With each step down the air around me got heavier, the voices of my friends began to fade away so that I could only hear the increasing speed of my heart, and my skin began to prick.

_That hadn't happened since…no, that's impossible._

I shook my head hoping the feeling would subside. It brought back so many memories, ones I had treasured for so long and hung on to like a life preserver. To dare to hope that she was here only to discover that it was just my mind playing tricks on me…well it would be crushing.

_But she is here. She has to be. I can feel it._

The familiar pull I always felt in her presence told my body where to look. Slowly, I turned around to see the subject of all my dreams on a park bench across the street. In that moment, everything including my friends, melted away. I could barely make out their befuddled expressions as I wordlessly moved away from them and towards her. She also rose to her feet and crossed the street until we met on the sidewalk. Up close she was the same girl I knew long ago. Her beautiful brown eyes were still warm and her hair, I could tell, was still silky and long, even if it was pinned up underneath a stylish hat. But there were subtle differences as well. Even with her coat on I could tell she had gained weight. Not a lot, just enough to give her some more womanly curves. There had been nothing to her when we were together over a year ago and now she looked healthier. My hands itched to explore those curves and discover just how they came to be. In addition to the changes in her body, there was something else radiating from her that I couldn't quite put my finger on. A new confidence or purpose, maybe. Whatever it was it just made her look even more damned exquisite. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and never let me go, but she stopped short and I could do nothing but follow suit. There was a reason she was here and not back in Ohio. At that moment worry flooded my entire body and drowned out the original elation of seeing her again.

"Bella…is everything okay? Are you okay?" The stressful look that crossed her face as she closed her eyes only increased my concern. "What are you doing here? Who is watching the farm?"

When she finally opened her eyes I could see that they held the answers to all of my questions. Without looking, she reached down to take my hand and it was like a part of me that had been missing since we parted ways had been found. Before she answered, she glanced nervously behind me to my friends who were now shamelessly listening to our exchange.

"Will you go somewhere with me?" Was she kidding?

"You know I would." She glanced one more time behind me. "Just give me one second."

I let go of her hand and went to Jasper and Emmett who suddenly acted like the cracks in the sidewalk were the most interesting think on the planet. "I'll catch up with you guys later." Jasper gave Bella a brief look before coming back to me.

"Is that who I think it is?" I gave him a brief nod. I had told Jasper all about Bella when we first moved in together. He knew what she had meant to me.

"Okay, I'll see you back at the apartment. Good luck." His words were light but his expression was anything but. He was worried about me and his eyes warned me to be cautions. Emmett was about to say something, but Jasper grabbed him and pulled him towards the lunch counter around the corner before he could get anything out. With relief, I walked back to Bella and took her hand once again. I couldn't help it. I needed to touch her.

"Okay, where to?" I smiled at her, trying to ease some of the tension away. She smiled awkwardly back at me and began walking down the street. I could do nothing but follow her.

"Um, my hotel is just a few blocks away." I stopped and pulled her back towards me. I wasn't sure why she would bring be back to her hotel, but the man inside me went right to the obvious reason. Even if my body wanted nothing more than to get reacquainted with hers, rushing into _that_ didn't seem like the right thing to do. We had a lot to talk about. Like why she was here after all this time.

"Bella, why exactly…I'm not sure I understand why you want to bring me to your hotel room." When she saw my confusion, she sighed. I could see resignation in her eyes.

"Please trust me when I tell you that this is something you need to see in order to believe." I had no idea what she was talking about but I did know one thing.

I trusted her…completely.

"Okay." A weak but grateful smile formed on her lips.

We walked the rest of the way in silence.

**Chapters will be longer than this and I hope to post once a week at least. We'll be jumping back in time for the first chapter. I appreciate any feedback you would be willing to give. **

**~Isannah**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who has started reading my new story. I hope you enjoy it enough to see it through to the end. We're jumping back in time a little. **

**AN: I do not own Twilight or a cow named Bessie.**

**Chapter 1**

**How I Got Here**

_**June 1945**_

**BPOV**

"Easy girl, that's it. There you go, Bessie, that's a good girl."

I slid my calloused hands down her engorged utter and began the motion I had become able to do without giving a second thought. The initial spurts hitting the bottom of the metal bucket at first echoed through the barn but then quickly faded as the foamy white liquid coated the bottom and began to fill. Bessie's grunts between her bites of grain only affirmed the relief I'm sure she was feeling. It was her turn to be milked last and having to wait for the others to be done had undoubtedly made her uncomfortable. I hated it, but there really wasn't anything I could do about it.

_God, Sam. I wish you were here. This so hard without you._

Milking time was the only time I allowed myself to think about my late husband. Maybe it was because I didn't need to concentrate on what I was doing and I could let my mind wander. Maybe it was because Bessie was Sam's favorite and seeing her brought him to the forefront of my mind. Nevertheless, whether I wanted to or not, I thought about Sam twice a day, every day. It was comforting and unnerving all at the same time.

His image, conversations we had, moments we shared flitted through my mind with no particular rhyme or reason. Looking back to when we first met, I realized I never had a chance against his expressive dark eyes and a smile that brought a matching set of dimples to life. I was barely twenty years old when Sam swept me off my feet and convinced me to marry him six months after we had met. I loved him…so much. I would have done anything for him, anything just to be with him.

In a way, I did.

When I was young I never thought I would ever become a farmer's wife. I wasn't a city girl or anything, but growing up with a pet dog and a vegetable garden was about the closest thing I ever came to livestock and crops. I liked to read and write and always saw myself as possibly being a teacher or something along those lines. But when Sam proposed and told me what he saw for our future, I was so mesmerized by his passion and his motivation and his determination to make it a reality. It made me forget my wistful and not set in stone ideas and say yes to everything he was offering. I wanted to be a part of it all.

Perfect was the only way to describe our wedding day. The sun shone down brightly and a light breeze, sweetened with the smell of lilacs, was refreshing and kept the temperature at a comfortable level. We were married in a small ceremony at Sam's church in the presence of family and a few friends. I wore the dress my mother wore on the day she was married to my father. The lace and satin were simple, but it fit me beautifully and I felt beautiful in it. Charlie did a double-take as the brief appearance of what I'm sure he thought was a ghost flashed before his eyes. Tears sprang to his eyes. I went to him and took his hand in mine.

"I'm sorry, Dad. It's too much…I shouldn't have…" I struggled with my words as I motioned to the dress. He brought my hands up to his lips and kissed them.

"Shhh. No, it's not. It's true, you look so much like her, but that is a very good thing. Your mother was the most beautiful person I ever laid eyes on…until now. I know she's looking down on you today bursting with pride and happiness. She loves you so very much. _We_ love you so much." It had been years since my mother had died, but my father still missed her, still mourned her, and still loved her with all his heart. I remember thinking as I wiped away the tears that had had leaked down his cheeks that I hoped I had been lucky enough to find that kind of love with Sam. Now, being able to relate to what my father had gone through, I know that that we had been blessed with that type of love. There would always be a piece of my heart that belonged to him, forever.

Once we were married Sam used his life savings to buy this small farm about fifty miles south of Columbus, Ohio. Pickaway County to be exact. He beamed as he carried me over the threshold of the little white farmhouse that we would call home. It wasn't much, but it was ours. Together we worked it hard with the idea that over time it would grow and expand into something substantial that we could pass down to our children, of which there would hopefully be many. A year in, it looked as if our efforts were beginning to pay off. I was finally adjusting to farm life and truly beginning to feel comfortable and confident in my new role. We were starting to make some real progress and excitedly were on the brink of buying a few more acres and maybe some more livestock. Talks of starting our family had become frequent and the glint in Sam's eye told me that it wouldn't be too long before I was pregnant with out first child. I was happy, giddy even with the life Sam and I were building together. Nothing could touch us, or at least that was what I thought.

I'll never forget where I was when I heard the news. It was a Monday and like any other Monday I had driven the truck into town to sell our eggs to Newton's General Store and pick up a few needed things. I shuddered in response to the chilling wind and wrapped my coat tighter around me as I made my way up the front steps. There was hardly anyone about, which I thought was kind of odd for noon time on a weekday. Opening the door to Newton's I could see about ten people or so, all of who I recognized, crowded around the radio listening like their lives depended on it. I eyed them curiously as I brought my basket up to the counter.

"What's going on?" I said barely above a whisper only to be shushed in response. I was taken back by the abruptness but understood that something big was going on. I tried to listen to the voice on the radio, but it was hard to hear. After what seemed like forever, Mr. Newton came over to where I was at the counter.

"Damn Japs. They attacked Pearl Harbor." I thought it through thinking I would eventually get what he was saying, but I didn't.

"Pearl Harbor? I'm sorry, I don't understand…" Mr. Newton stopped me so he could explain.

"Our military base in Hawaii. For some God forsaken reason the Japanese sent over a horde of planes and bombed the hell out of it. They never saw it coming. At least hundreds are dead. President is talking about it now." I paled at his words. It didn't seem real, but the men still huddled around the radio, hanging on every word President Roosevelt was saying proved otherwise.

"That's terrible. Why would they do that?" My mind instantly went to those that had lost their lives so senselessly. The devastation their families will undoubtedly go through.

"I don't know, Mrs. Uley, but at this point it doesn't matter why. What matters is what happens now, and I don't think it will be good." He drifted back toward the radio and turned up the volume. I could hear President Roosevelt speaking in that low, commanding voice that he was known and loved for. Like the men hovering around the radio, I too was frozen, needing to know how the leader of our country was going to fix this.

"…_I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire."_

"War…" I whispered. We were at war with a country on the other side of the world. It was such a foreign concept I couldn't wrap my head around it. Little did I know that one word would irrevocably change our lives forever.

Sam and I continued on with our day to day responsibilities, but the war with Japan, and by alliance Germany and Italy as well, weighed on our minds. As time went on and more and more boys were leaving for overseas, the hope that the war would be fought and won without having a direct impact on us was dwindling. In fact, it was the summer of 1942 when Sam was drafted into the United States Army. It wasn't what either of us wanted, but Sam understood that this was his duty as an American man. The day he left he looked so magnificent in his uniform but it had been overshadowed by all of the worry that surrounded us. My worry for him as well as his for me.

"Just do what you can, sweetheart. My parents will be here to help out with whatever you need." I clung to him, not wanting him to go. I was afraid, of so many things. Barely twenty-two years old, I had no idea how to run a farm by myself and was so scared that I would ruin it and that Sam would come back to nothing. I was nervous that I would be a burden on Sam's parents. We didn't know each other very well as they moved here from Pennsylvania when they received news that Sam had been drafted. He wanted them here to help me and even though I wasn't really too sure how I felt about that, I knew that I could not run the farm entirely by myself. I was forced to rely on them more than I wanted, but that in comparison was the least of my worries. Every day I agonized over my biggest fear, that I would lose the love of my life. That he wouldn't come back. Thinking about it nearly suffocated me.

Over the next year, my life was the same day in and day out. I threw myself into my work, of which there was a lot of. The care of the livestock, the milking, the crops, the cleaning, the household repairs, you name it, I did it. As backbreaking as it was, I welcomed the fact that I did not have time to think about the reality of the situation. I missed Sam with all my heart, but it wasn't until the evening when everything was done and I sat down to write him my daily letter or read the letters he wrote to me that arrived sporadically that I let my emotions come to the surface. It was then that I allowed my heart to ache and the tears to fall. When I was all cried out, I wiped my eyes, went to bed, and started the whole process the next morning before dawn.

I was very grateful Sam's parents were true to their word. I couldn't have kept the farm going as long as I had if they had not been there to lend a hand. My own father had offered to come, but as of late his health was not the best and I did not think it was a good idea. I convinced him that between Mr. and Mrs. Uley and myself, we had everything under control, and for the most part we did. They came over often and helped me with anything I needed. Out of necessity and obligation to Sam, we became sort of close. They were nice people and we were getting to know each other. I could see us one day, under different circumstances, forming that strong bond a woman should with his husband's parents. However, none of us were willing to whole heartedly invest in the relationship knowing that the one thread that kept us together, that made us family, could be ripped away and disappear at any moment. We could not allow ourselves to feel any real emotion towards each other until that thread was back home, where he belonged. Sadly, it turned out our instincts were right.

Sam had been killed at the siege of Bastogne on a cold, winter day in the middle of a German forest. I didn't find out until five days later when the official looking car with even more official looking men showed up at my house. They tried to explain how Sam had died valiantly for his country, but I couldn't even comprehend that. He was supposed to be here with me, living out his dream. A farm, some crops, a few livestock, a family…that's all he wanted. When I was alone, I cried, I screamed, I threw things, I cursed God for taking Sam away from the simple life he worked so hard for, and I cursed Sam for leaving me. For hours the emotions that wracked my body purged themselves in various ways leaving me completely and utterly numb. My heart was already broken leaving me unable to shed a single tear as they lowered my husband into the ground. Instead, I clutched the folded American flag that had been draped over Sam's coffin and I made him a promise. I swore to him that I would do everything I could, give everything I had to keep his dream alive. I may not have been able to give him a family, but I sure as hell would do everything possible to keep his farm going.

Unfortunately, his parents didn't have the same feeling. After Sam's funeral, they announced that they were moving back to Philadelphia. They needed to get away from all the hurt Sam left behind. I understood completely and emotionally I didn't really need them, but I didn't think I could ever forgive them for abandoning Sam's dream. They must have known that without their support I would never have been able to keep up with the farm by myself. But it didn't stop them and I haven't heard from them since.

For over two years after Sam's death I did everything in my power to keep things going. I hadn't realized just how much his parents did for me until they were gone and I was doing it on my own. It was not easy. As a war widow, I received a pension of $100 a month. That helped a bit, but not completely. I sold a lot of the animals only keeping four milking cows, a few hogs, and some chickens. The money I got for them allowed me to breathe a little and the amount of livestock I had left was much more manageable for me. I took care of the house, the animals, hell I had even managed to grow one field of corn completely on my own. The work was long and grueling both physically and mentally, but I didn't give up. I couldn't give up. I was doing this for Sam and as long as I could keep the farm, I could keep a piece of him with me.

At first, I welcomed the work. It gave me something good to focus on while I grieved for my husband. Once the shock of it all had worn down to a monotonous dull, I found that I was so angry at him for leaving me. Even though the rational person in me could understand that Sam didn't _leave _me, he was _taken_ from me, the heartbroken girl found it difficult to forgive him. Over time I had learned to accept his death for what it was, but looking back, _I_ grieve for the girl who for so long had to go through all of that pain alone. I can't help but feel sorry for her and what she has lost and has had to endure already at such a young age.

Even now, two years later, I _still_ grieve for her.

My hands slowed down their movements in an attempt to get the last little bit of milk from Bessie. The bucket was more than half full and I smiled up at Sam's favorite cow.

"Good job, girl." I said as I patted her side and pulled the bucket out from underneath her. Bessie grunted a little, but never stopped her feeding. I strained the milk into the cooling jug, gauging how much I had all together. I mentally put 'make butter' on my list of things to do tomorrow. Once Sam died Mr. Newton extended our arrangement with the eggs to include butter as well. With the country rationing everything from sugar to gasoline, having a little homemade butter on hand gave him a little side business. I also think he felt sorry for me and this was his way to help me out. Between the eggs and the butter I was able to earn enough credit to purchase most of the things from the store that I needed.

I finished mucking the stalls and cleaning the milking bucket and strainers before finally being satisfied that everything was ready for the next day. Wearily I stretched and made my way to the house. Dinner was just left over pot roast and vegetables. These days I could cook one meal on Sunday and it would last me most of the week. I probably should have taken the time to warm it up, but I was so tired that I ate it cold and headed straight to bed.

I hated night time. The silence as I laid there waiting for sleep to claim me was absolutely deafening. There was no shifting from the other side of the bed, no light snoring filling the air, no warm body next to me to take away the chill of the night. It had been two years since Sam had died, almost three since he had been drafted. Three years since I started sleeping in this bed, our bed, alone.

_God Sam, I miss you_.

I was relieved as I felt the edges of sleep starting to take over. Loneliness was a horrible feeling and I was grateful that I only had a few mere minutes in the day to think about just how lonely I really was.

**Are you still with me? Depressing but at least you know where Bella is coming from. Love to hear what you think! **


	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize that this is so late in posting. I unexpectedly had to go on an out-of-state trip to help a family member. Everything is fine…now, but it got in the way of writing and responding to reviews. I don't foresee it happening again so I hope you stick with me. Thank you to all who have read and left reviews. I really, really appreciate it.**

**I know a lot of you are anxious meet Edward We still have a little bit to learn about Bella, but Edward will introduce himself in the next chapter.**

**AN: I do not own Twilight.**

**Chapter 2**

**Help From Friends**

_**June 1945**_

**BPOV**

As usual I was awake, fully dressed, and out of the house just before dawn for the morning milking. I had a busy day planned. I took to the task of feeding the animals. I really didn't have many but all together they ate a lot and often. When everyone had been taken care of I stood for a moment and listened to the grunts and snorts that echoed off the rafters as they ate. If I was looking for any type of appreciation, their noises would have to do.

_You're welcome, boys and girls._

I gave them a little time to enjoy their breakfast while I went to check on the field I had planted this year. I was anxious as I made my way to the back of the property. Sam had always said that if the corn was 'knee high by the Fourth of July' it was a pretty good indication that there would be a successful harvest. We hadn't had any rain in the last week or so and I was a bit nervous as to what I would find. But to my pleasant surprise, it didn't look too bad and as long as it rained soon, everything should be okay.

Once back in the barn I milked the cows while they ate using the same routine I had used time and time again. When that was done I opened the cooling jugs from the last couple of days and skimmed the milk fat that had risen to the top. There was a good amount and I took it into the house to churn. It wasn't a terribly long process, but it did require constant motion if the texture was going to come out right. After several minutes, the wayward piece of hair that had fallen out of my tightly wrapped bun was really starting to bug me. My skin was damp with perspiration and my arms began to burn slightly with the movement, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn't stop. A few minutes longer and the butter was complete. I used the back of my hand to wipe the sweat that had formed on my forehead and waited for my breathing to slow.

Before I could start scooping the butter out of the churn, I heard the crunching of gravel and looked out the window to see Jacob Black's familiar blue truck pulling into the driveway. Jacob owned a farm a few miles down the road. He and his wife, Leah, had bought it about the same time Sam had bought this one. We quickly became fast friends as Sam and Jacob learned the ins and outs of farming together. Leah and I also found comfort in each other, both of us not knowing the first thing about being a farmer's wife.

When Sam first died, it seemed like there were always people at the house to check on me, drop off food, and do whatever they could to help. Sometimes I felt I would suffocate with all of the attention I was getting. But after the funeral was over, people went back to their own lives and the visits became more and more infrequent. I didn't begrudge them one bit. Many of them had loved ones of their own overseas and were doing what they could to survive. Jacob and Leah though, they were my constant. They didn't come by every day, but at least once a week Jacob would show up to drop off something delicious Leah had made and see if I needed anything. Unless it was something really important, I almost always turned him down. They had enough on their plate without adding my problems to it.

"Good morning, Jacob." I said as I waved while I descended the front porch steps. He was already walking towards me with a big grin on his face. He was also carrying a large container.

"Hi, Bella. Leah made beef stew and wanted me to drop some off to you." I took the heavy pot from his hands and realized that she must have made me my own batch. It would last me several days.

"That was so nice of her, but shouldn't she be resting or something?"

"That's what I told her but she won't hear of it. She's acting like a crazy woman. Cooking, cleaning, laundry…you name it, she's doing it." I could tell that Jacob was exasperated by his wife's unwillingness to slow down.

"How much time does she have left?"

"Doc Cullen says probably a few more weeks but that she could go any day now." Jacob and Leah were expecting their first child. They first announced she was pregnant when they invited me over for dinner one night. I told them how happy I was for them and it wasn't a lie, but I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming wave of despair come over me. As soon as it was appropriate, I excused myself claiming to be tired and went home. Once in bed I allowed myself to cry over something I had wanted so much and was now completely out of my reach. Since then, I have been nothing but elated and excited to meet the new little one, but I still couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness in my heart and the feeling that I had been cheated from time to time.

"It's so exciting! You better let me know when it happens. And please, let me help you and Leah out a little. I'd be happy to come over and cook or clean or whatever you need me to do."

"Thanks, Bella. We really appreciate the offer, but Leah's parents will be coming to stay with us for awhile so we should be all set. Besides, you have more than enough to do around here." Jacob's meaning was more than clear. While I know he valued the gesture, he knew logistically it was impossible for me to make good on it. We both knew yet I didn't hesitate to put it out there. I wanted to reciprocate all the help they had given me all the years…so badly. Ashamed and relieved at the same time, I was grateful that he let me down easy.

"Okay, well that's nice that they will be able to spend some time with baby." I said awkwardly.

"I think it will be." There was a brief silence where neither one of us said anything. I could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but was holding back for some reason. We had been friends for along time. He and Leah had seen me at my worst and I was having a difficult time imagining that Jacob was nervous about telling me anything.

"Jacob, what is it?" I finally said. He blew out a large breath I didn't even know he was holding.

"We've decided, Leah and I, that if it is a boy, we want to name him Samuel. Sam was my best friend and one of the best men I have ever known. I want my son to have his name, if it's okay with you." Tears had welled up in his eyes as he nervously shifted from one foot to the other and just like that I remembered that I wasn't the only one who mourned Sam's death. On instinct, I walked over to Jacob and put my arms around him. I whispered my reassurance to him.

"I think he would have liked that. Very much." Jacob pulled away to gage my sincerity and nodded when he found what he was looking for. He smiled and I felt the need to lighten the air. "But what if it is a girl?"

"I don't know, maybe Samantha? We are both so sure it is going to be a boy we haven't even thought about girl names. Since we found out, we've only had one name in mind. I guess we'll work with it if it is a girl." Jacob chuckled as he wiped his eyes a little. He smiled at me and I smiled back. I meant what I had said to him. Sam would have loved it.

"I just made butter. Let me go get you some." I said, effectively changing the subject. Before he could protest I went into the house and closed the door. I just needed a minute to collect myself. Breathing in and out I scooped some of the butter from the churn into a dish and brought it out to Jacob, who was looking at my roof.

"Your roof needs some work. I can come over this weekend and fix it for you. In fact, looking around I see some other things that need repaired." I narrowed my eyes at him.

_Not going to happen, my friend._

"I know there are some things I need to do before winter, but nothing that needs to be done right now." There was no I was letting him do anything right now. If after harvest he insisted, then I would pay him or if he didn't want to, someone else to do the work. I don't care how much of a fit he threw.

"Really, it's no problem at all. I could just…"

"Jacob." I cut him off. "I know you want to help me and I can't tell you how much I appreciate all the help you give me around here, but you are about to be a father. Leah needs you and you are going to be there for her. I will not let you neglect her or overwork yourself to the point where you are too exhausted to enjoy this momentous event in your life. End of discussion."

"But…"

"I will be fine, Jacob. Now go home to your wife and tell her I said thank you for the stew and that I will be over soon to visit." He signed but nodded his surrender. He would try three more times that week to get me to accept his help, he even showed up with tools one day, but I flatly refused each time.

A few days after I made the butter, I gathered it up along with the two dozen eggs I had collected and headed into town. Mr. Newton was grateful for the butter and in return gave me a little more sugar than I was supposed to receive. Since it was just me I never went completely through the ration stamps that I was issued every month, but sugar was the one thing I always redeemed the maximum quantity of. It was difficult to come by, even for a farmer. I smiled at Mr. Newton as I realized my package was a little heavier than it should be. I tucked it in my bag along with the few other items I picked out

"I thank you, Mr. Newton. See you next week."

"You have a nice day. Oh, and Mrs. Uley?" I turned back around to face him. "If some of that happens to land in a pie, I'd be happy to take some off your hands." The hopeful look on his face made me chuckle. He had always loved my pies.

_I haven't baked anything in such a long, long time._

Suddenly I had an inspiration. "Do you like strawberries, Mr. Netwon?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then I do believe we can work something out." I smiled again at him and continued my way out the door. My body vibrated with excitement at the thought of doing something I had once loved and being able to offer a treat to the people who consistently watched out for me. I had noticed a day or two ago that the wild strawberry plants on the edge of the property were just bursting and ready for picking. I had all of the other ingredients at home and with the extra sugar I could probably make two pies. One would be for Leah and Jacob and the other I could keep a small slice for myself and give the rest it to Mr. Newton.

Knowing I had about four hours before I had to start milking, I rushed home a little faster and got to work. There were so many strawberries ready to pick that gathering the amount I needed went quickly. Once they were washed and sliced, I went to the task of making the crust, enjoying the process of mixing the ingredients and rolling out the dough until it was just right. Baking had always been something I had liked to do and when Sam was alive, he would constantly accuse me of trying to fatten him up with all of the things I would make. I knew he loved it though. Now, it was a rare day when I actually baked something from scratch. With everything else I had to do I just didn't have the extra time and when I did find I had a few extra moments, baking for myself didn't seem very appealing.

The smell that radiated from my oven made the house smell delicious. My mouth watered as I took both perfectly baked pies out and set them on stove top for cooling. Later that evening, when the milking and the rest of the chores were done, I took my sharpest knife, cut a small piece out of one, and set it on a plate. After I covered the two pies to prevent them from going stale, I took my plate and a glass of milk over to the table and sat down. I smiled as I inspected the slice and decided that I hadn't lost my touch. My lips wrapped around the fork as I took my first bite.

The crust was light, flakey, and had a buttery taste. The inside was juicy and succulent. It was just as I remembered.

And yet it just wasn't the same.

As I chewed, I looked around at my empty table and tried to figure out why what should have been the sweetest thing I had eaten in years just seemed off. I swallowed hard as it became glaringly obvious.

I had no one to share it with.

The sheer feeling of loneliness made the taste in my mouth sour instantly. With my appetite lost, I scraped what was left of the slice into the garbage and went to bed.

**Changes are a coming, I promise! Reviews are better than strawberry pie! ~Isannah**


End file.
